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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942801">Patience, Dammit!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NB_Cecil/pseuds/NB_Cecil'>NB_Cecil</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Spones [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Original Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Awkward Boners, Choking Kink, Clothed Sex, Groping, Grumpy!Bones, In Public, Kirk and Spock gang up on Bones, M/M, Masturbation, McCoy’s canonical choking fetish, McCoy’s self-control is tested, Mind Meld, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Playing Footsie, Porn with minimal Plot, Service top!Spock, Sub!Bones, Teasing, Touching, Vulcan Mind Melds, Vulcan Touch Telepathy, fic inspired by fanart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:35:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NB_Cecil/pseuds/NB_Cecil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Kirk and/or Spock touched Bones and he didn’t come in his pants and one time he did.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Spones [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563289</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Patience, Dammit!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletSmith/gifts">VioletSmith</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_new_wolverine/gifts">all_new_wolverine</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mok_47/gifts">mok (mok_47)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by @moksutinn’s <a href="https://twitter.com/moksutinn/status/1293942322871361536?s=21">doodle</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>McCoy jumped at the light brush of fingertips over his lower back. He spun around to see Kirk standing close behind him, smirking.<br/>
“Morning, Bones,” the captain greeted him innocently. McCoy scowled back at him. Kirk chuckled and sauntered off toward the bridge.<br/>
“Dammit,” McCoy cursed under his breath. He cast nervous glances at the other crew members queuing for the food dispenser, hoping no-one would notice what felt to him to be an enormous and all-too-obvious hard-on tenting the front of his uniform pants.<br/>
By the time McCoy had collected his coffee and made his way to sickbay, his erection had—thankfully—subsided.</p><p>	“What do you want, Spock?” McCoy snapped without looking up from his task.<br/>
Spock lounged in the doorway, arms folded, watching McCoy run a sanitation light over one of the biobeds. “Is Lieutenant DeSalle fit for duty, doctor?”<br/>
“I cleared him and the rest of yesterday’s away party for duty just now. Report’s on the padd.” McCoy inclined his head toward a table in the corner of the room.<br/>
Spock sauntered past him and picked up the padd. On his way back to the exit he paused beside McCoy, leaned into his personal space, and pressed two fingertips to the back of his hand. “Thank you, doctor,” he purred, then turned and walked out.<br/>
“Dammit. You son of a bitch!” McCoy shouted after the vulcan as the door hissed closed behind him. Via that fleeting touch, Spock had telepathically conveyed an image pornographic enough to get McCoy straining uncomfortably against the fabric of his boxers for the second time that morning. He stormed into his office and flung himself down in his chair, grateful that his next patient wasn’t due for another ten minutes.</p><p>	“You’re doing it deliberately,” McCoy growled. He glared across the table at Spock.<br/>
“I am merely eating my lunch.” Spock cocked an eyebrow innocently. The toe of his boot grazed McCoy’s shin under the table.<br/>
“You <em>know</em> what you’re doing,” McCoy shot back. He looked up, caught Chapel’s eye as she approached their table carrying a laden tray, and—before he could stop himself—gave her a glare so vicious she altered course and scurried away to sit with Uhura and Chekov.<br/>
“That’s no way to treat your colleagues, doctor,” Spock admonished. McCoy grunted irritably and took a bite of protein cube.<br/>
They ate in silence for a minute, McCoy glowering across the table at Spock, Spock leaning back in his chair and staring back, his face a picture of innocence while his ran his boot up and down McCoy’s calf. McCoy choked back a strangled whine.<br/>
Spock stood up abruptly, snatched up his tray of half-eaten food and said, with a hint of a smirk, “Goodbye, doctor. I am needed on the bridge.”<br/>
“Dammit, you—” Spock was gone before McCoy finished his sentence. He finished his lunch alone, eating slowly and willing his hard-on to go away before he had to suffer the indignity of standing up in the crowded mess hall. </p><p>	McCoy grumbled under his breath when the turbolift doors opened to reveal a crowded car, but he wanted to get a quick work-out in at the gym before his lunch break was over, and he’d already wasted time sitting alone at a table in the mess hall after Spock had pulled his little stunt, so he shouldered his way in, nodded his thanks to a gaggle of engineers who moved over to make room, and stated his destination to the computer.<br/>
The lift made a few stops, but McCoy managed to keep his position near the door as crew members got on and off, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet and staring down at the floor to avoid awkward eye-contact with the other passengers while he waited for his stop.<br/>
“Bones.”<br/>
McCoy looked up at the sound of the nickname the captain used for him. Kirk stepped into the turbolift.<br/>
“Captain,” McCoy acknowledged him.<br/>
“It’s busy.” Kirk stood slightly in front of him, facing the door, closer than was necessary even with so many people crowded into the lift.<br/>
“It’s the lunch rush,” McCoy replied to the captain’s back. Kirk hummed in agreement.<br/>
The lift came to a halt at McCoy’s stop. “Excuse me,” he said, turning his body sideways as he manoeuvred through a narrow gap between Kirk and another crewman. The crewman shuffled aside to make room. Kirk turned toward McCoy as he squeezed past, and looking at him with a glint in his eye, pressed the heel of his hand firmly into the doctor’s crotch. Embarrassed, McCoy darted out of the lift in a hurry and turned back to glare at Kirk, who stood with his hands behind his back smirking at him as the lift doors closed.<br/>
“He’s conspiring with that pointed-eared bastard, dammit.” McCoy muttered to himself, surreptitiously slipping a hand down the front of his pants to adjust his once-again aching erection as he stomped his way down the thankfully-empty corridor to the gymnasium.</p><p>	“No!” McCoy exclaimed. He clutched protectively at the knot of towel at his waist and glared at the vulcan, seated fully clothed in his uniform on the locker room bench. “I’m going back into the shower and I’m going to count to ten, and when I come out again, you’re going to be gone.”<br/>
“I can wait,” Spock replied. “You, however, are due back in sickbay in eleven minutes.”<br/>
“You and Jim have been plaguing me all day. What do you want?” Mccoy took a step toward Spock, staring at him defiantly.<br/>
Spock rose from the bench and closed the gap between them. McCoy stepped back a few paces until he felt the cold, hard surface of a locker door against his bare back. Spock advanced until they were standing toe-to-toe. Slowly, he ran a hand up McCoy’s chest until his fingers closed around his throat. McCoy shivered under his touch. “This...” he murmured, lips close to McCoy’s ear.<br/>
McCoy gasped as Spock let down his mental barriers and pushed the thought of his fingers tightening slowly, thumb and forefinger pressing into the carotid arteries either side of McCoy’s throat, squeezing just long enough for his vision to go fuzzy before letting up, into his mind.<br/>
“...But you don’t have the time,” Spock finished. He dropped his hand to his waist and stepped back, leaving McCoy leaning against the locker, panting.<br/>
“Dammit, that’s the second time you’ve done that mind thing to me today,” McCoy complained once he’d got his breath back.<br/>
“Indeed,” Spock smirked.</p><p>	McCoy stepped out of the turbolift onto the bridge. “Alright, shift’s over,” he declared, marching over to the captain’s chair.<br/>
“Bones, I’m busy.” Kirk waved a hand dismissively.<br/>
“No, you’re coming with me.” McCoy grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the chair.<br/>
“Alright, alright.” Kirk threw up his hands in defeat. “Lieutenant.” He nodded at the officer standing ready to relieve him.<br/>
Over at the science station, Spock watched the exchange with an expression of amusement.<br/>
“You too.” McCoy rounded on the vulcan.<br/>
“On my way, doctor.” Spock followed McCoy and Kirk into the turbolift.<br/>
“You want to swing by the rec room and play some vulcan chess?” Kirk asked conversationally as the lift doors closed.<br/>
“You! And you!” McCoy rounded on his tormentors. Kirk and Spock exchanged a look. “You’ve been teasing me all day, goddammit.”<br/>
“I don’t know what you mean,” Kirk said. “Have you been teasing him, Spock?”<br/>
”A little,” Spock replied.<br/>
“A <em>little?!</em>” McCoy exploded. “You followed me to sickbay, the mess hall and in the gym. And Jim,” he turned to glare at the captain, “you’re just as bad! You might not have pre-planned it like Spock, but you took your opportunities when you saw them in the coffee queue and on the turbolift.”<br/>
Kirk shrugged. “You can’t complain if I bump into you in a crowded place, Bones.”<br/>
“You did more than bump into me!” Bones shouted, cheeks red, fully worked up to anger now.<br/>
McCoy shoved the others through the lift doors as they opened onto the habitation deck. “My quarters,” he growled, and herded them down the corridor, muttering expletive-laced complaints as they went.<br/>
As soon as the door to his quarters hissed closed behind them McCoy collapsed against Spock’s chest. “I need...” he whined.<br/>
“We know,” Jim chuckled behind him. He wrapped his arms around McCoy’s waist and slipped his hands under the front of his uniform shirt, pushing it up and running his hands over the doctor’s chest and belly. “You’ve been going on about your need for the last ten minutes.”<br/>
“God, you two could drive a man to distraction,” McCoy grumbled, trying to grind against Spock’s hip.<br/>
“Patience,” Spock admonished. He fisted a hand in McCoy’s hair and took a step back.<br/>
McCoy staggered and clutched Spock’s shoulder for support. “I’ve been patient all day,” he snapped. “I’m done being patient.”<br/>
“You can hold out a little longer, surely?” Kirk teased. His fingers found McCoy’s nipple and gave it a sharp pinch.<br/>
McCoy yelped. “I’m all out of patience.”<br/>
“Perhaps...” Spock murmured. His right hand still tangled in McCoy’s hair, he grasped the doctor’s hand with his left. “Perhaps I can lend you some of my patience.”<br/>
McCoy felt Spock’s mind push into his and a little of Spock’s self-control flowed through the connection.<br/>
“Let’s see how far your patience goes, shall we, Spock?” Kirk smirked at the vulcan over McCoy’s shoulder and ground his erection against McCoy’s ass.<br/>
“You’ll find even vulcan patience wears thin eventually,” McCoy said.<br/>
Spock closed his eyes and nuzzled his face against the top of McCoy’s head. “I have a little more patience than you do, Leonard.”<br/>
With Spock’s telepathic assistance, McCoy managed to keep control of himself right up until Kirk’s hands wandered down to the front of his pants. He groaned and rutted desperately against Kirk’s fingers.<br/>
“Oh, and you were doing so well,” Kirk teased.<br/>
“I’m really done with this game,” McCoy said through gritted teeth. “<em>Please</em>.”<br/>
“Spock, should we let him?” Kirk asked.<br/>
“I think you have exhibited sufficient self-control,” Spock said softly into McCoy’s hair.<br/>
“At last!” McCoy let out a long breath.<br/>
“Go on,” Spock prompted, and gently reestablished his mental barriers, ending the mind meld.<br/>
Without the help of Spock’s control McCoy was suddenly a desperate, needy mess. He ground urgently against Kirk’s hands, his painfully-hard cock straining against the constraints of his clothing. Kirk gripped him firmly through the fabric and a few thrusts against the captain’s palm were all it took to send him over the edge. He came hard in his pants with a long groan, dimly aware of Spock murmuring words of encouragement and Kirk pressing kisses to the side of his neck. His knees buckled as his orgasm subsided, and Spock caught him, lifted him easily and carried him over to the bed, Kirk following close behind. Spock laid him down on the mattress.<br/>
“You two,” McCoy panted, looking up at them, “You two...” he trailed off, fumbling for words, failed to find any, and so settled on “Dammit, you two...” before dissolving into giggles.</p>
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